All I Want for Christmas for jms529
by Yogi Dee
Summary: My submission for the Secret Snowflake on LJ, except I can't figure out how to post it there.  Merry Christmas, it's holiday-themed.


Stan sighed and rubbed his temples. Mary and Marshall had been bickering more than usual the past week, and he was having visions of sending them both to their rooms without dinner.

"If only it were that easy." He murmured under his breath. Dealing with Mary was never easy, especially when she was angry about something. Anger made her already volatile temper flare whiter than a…a…oh, one of those white hot things that Marshall was yammering about a few months ago. The man really did have an uncanny ability to remember the most remote, useless bits of trivia. Mary gave him a hard time about his "insipid running commentary," but he suspected that she didn't mind it as much as she let on. Stan felt pride when he regarded his two inspectors most of the time. Hardworking. Industrious. Tough. They synched far better than any partners he'd seen over the years. Like a lock and key, they fit into place; each able to do its job when the other was around.

Looking up, he noted Marshall leaning against Mary's desk speaking quietly to her. While Stan couldn't hear what was being said, he knew by his inspector's posture that he was attempting to get to the bottom of whatever was eating Mary. The growl Mary emitted was her unmistakable refusal to talk about it. Sighing once again as he rose, Stan walked slowly into the main room to give his inspectors the news.

"What up, Chief?" Marshall greeted him with a concerned smile and a shrug when he pointed to Mary.

"Inspectors, I'm afraid I have to break a little bad news."

"As long as it's for Marshall, break all you like." Mary retorted, still not looking up. She was notorious for her lack of holiday cheer, and it seemed this year would be no exception. Mary did appreciate dependability.

"You have a transfer." He watched Marshall's face as he said it, half convinced that he might actually cry. Marshall, in stark contrast to his slightly Scrooge-y partner, loved Christmas, and Stan knew he had plans for this one. They probably involved playing Santa Claus to a passel of nieces and nephews at his parent's house in Las Cruces or skiing the powdery slopes with his brothers in Aspen. Whatever the plans, he knew his young Marshal loved his family, and spent as many holidays surrounded by them as possible.

"Can it possibly wait two days?" Marshall inquired with a quiet voice. "Forty eight hours."

"Can we leave now?"

"No!" Stan looked around as Mary shouted over him. "I mean, yes, Mary. You need to leave immediately. I prepared the threat assessment, and you two, I'm afraid, are going to be celebrating Christmas in Dayton, Ohio." Pausing to shoot his distressed young Marshal a pained look, he added, "And no, I'm sorry. It can't wait. I tried. Higher ups want someone on this asap. The Feds were holding her, but they're undermanned. It's Christmas and they want to go home and build snowmen and drink eggnog. Yada yada yada. I'm sorry, Marshall."

Marshall nodded and took the threat assessment handed to him, plopping the first one in front of Mary, who was actually beaming for the first time in weeks. Plopping down in his rolling desk chair, Marshall sighed heavily. This was going to be one lousy Christmas.

"Mare?" Marshall was lugging his suitcase into the dingy motel room.

"Yeah?" Came a huffed reply. Mary was cursing herself for packing so many clothes. Then again, as she looked around, it was freezing cold here.

"Roaches."

"Huh?"

"We've got roaches." Marshall stepped aside so she could see. "Tons of them."

Mary scrunched up her face and backed away. "I'm not sleeping here." She continued backing. "I'm NOT sleeping here!" She only stopped when she bumped into the witness who was cowering a good ways away to stay clear of the arthropods.

Marshall scrubbed his face with his palm. There was no way he was staying here, either.

"We can't move."

"We can always move, Doofus." Mary was on her way back to the SUV with the witness hot on her heels. "We just have to inform Stan of the change of plans. Call it a safety hazard." She paused and thought for a moment.

"Stephanie, do you happen to have asthma?"

"No, why?" The older woman shook her head, not understanding Mary's intention.

"Do you have asthma?" Mary repeated more slowly and louder this time, then mimicked wheezing. "You know?"

"I don't…"

But Marshall caught on. "Because if you happened to have this particular condition, exposure to roach feces might cause an exacerbation that would put your health, and therefore possibly your LIFE in jeopardy. We would be forced to find…alternate lodgings."

Stephanie caught on. "Oh, asthma!" She exclaimed overly loudly. "Yes! I've had it since I was a child. Have to use those puffer things all the time."

"Inhalers." Mary and Marshall corrected simultaneously.

"Whatever." Stephanie shrugged and muttered under her breath.

"Let's blow this pop stand and check in somewhere nice for the night. On the government's dime?" Mary had that diabolical look in her face that let her partner know something was afoot.

"And just where did you have in mind?" He queried as she navigated the snowy parking lot.

"Well seeing as how we're in East Bum Fuck, Ohio, I'd say anything that doesn't charge by the hour is probably considered a classy joint, but I was hoping for a Marriot."

"This is western Ohio." Marshall grinned at her for the first time since Stan ruined his holiday plans that morning. "So we're technically in West Bum Fuck."

"Thanks." Mary replied dryly. "Like it matters. It's Ohio. Flyover territory. The part you only visit if you can't afford a plane ticket to get you to the interesting stuff on the other side."

"You know, more American presidents have come from Ohio than any other state?"

Mary's eyes rolled to let him know she did not, indeed, care.

"And that the cash register and the airplane were invented here?"

"Does that guidebook of yours say anything about how people that read guide books never get laid? Or does it just give directions to the nearest massage parlor with happy ending option?" Mary flipped the book out of her partner's hands and laughed when he scrambled to pick it up and wipe off the moisture from the floor. "Or how about how it's so frigging cold here that you probably have a seventy eight percent chance of dying from exposure or losing your favorite toe to frostbite?"

"You have a favorite toe?" Marshall was suddenly interested, her insults all but forgotten.

"I think whichever one I was in danger of losing would quickly become my favorite." She hmphed.

Marshall considered her logic as Mary eased the car from one interstate onto another. The exit lanes were cleared, at least. And there were salt trucks everywhere, and snow plows. It had been years since Marshall had experienced a white Christmas, but this wasn't quite the way he'd envisioned it.

"Can you guys turn up the heat, please?" Stephanie asked from the back seat. She wasn't a bad witness. Fairly benign character overall, should one chose to overlook her knowledge of the drug manufacture and distribution business. That business extended across several state and three or four international borders, so her arrest was followed quickly by her entry into Witness Protection. Marshall couldn't quite pinpoint what was bugging him about her, but he'd finally decided that it must just be that she was too damn polite. Years of working with Mary may have dulled him to rudeness somewhat, but overly-polite set his teeth on edge.

Mary reached over to crank up the heat as they rounded the cloverleaf on the on-ramp, but before she could look up again, the SUV plowed into three feet of solid snow. The plows, it seemed didn't clear both lanes of the exit, but you can't see that in the dark from around the corner.

"Shit!" Mary exclaimed as she fought to maintain control. This is why I hate cold weather, she thought to herself ironically.

The vehicle righted itself momentarily, the fishtailed dangerously before spinning circles across the interstate and finally colliding with the concrete barricade.

Mary was stunned. Angry.

Marshall was shaken up, but focused on the witness.

"Are you kidding me?" Mary was out of the car before he could stop her. "Are you f-ing kidding me?" She was screaming at the top of her voice. "Who plows PART of a lane?"

She continued her rant as Marshall checked on Stephanie quickly. She was unharmed and unphased, so he instructed her to stay put as he checked on his red faced partner.

"Mary." He tried to get her attention. "Mary!"

"What!" She whirled in the snow and lost her footing on the ice beneath the soft powder. "Umph." She landed with a grunt. "You've got to be KIDDING me!" She was still yelling, but she was still, so Marshall knelt to inspect her.

"Are you hurt?"

"Yeah!" She pulled herself up with his arm. "My ass is bruised. And now it's wet from the mother fricking snow." She stomped back to the car and took not of the swirl of smoke spiraling out from under the hood. "Oh, this is just perfect. Perfect! This is why I hate the Midwest!"

"Mary!" Marshall shouted at her this time, matching volume for volume.

"What?" She quieted and asked him inquisitively.

"Are you hurt? Your neck? Back? Anything?"

"I'm fine." She didn't stop to think about it. "But I think our ride has seen better days."

"I'll call the local office. See if I can procure us a new automobile." He was already on his phone when he caught Mary muttering something about his choice of vocabulary.

"From now on I'm only doing transfers in the Midwest in the summer." Mary announced a few hours later; her voice muffled into her pillow. "Criminals and whatnot in this region will just have to try to stay alive the other eleven months."

Marshall regarded her for a moment before deciding it was futile to try to talk sense into her at this point. His watch beeped at him. Midnight. Today was Christmas Eve. And the holiday was shaping up to be the worst he could remember. At least he was with Mary, he kept reminding himself. After the accident, the witness had been assigned a different set of Marshals to transfer her to Albuquerque so Mary and Marshall could get checked out at the hospital. Now they were stuck in Ohio and on their own. The weather had actually gone from bad to worse in the eight or so hours it took to clear the emergency room and all the paperwork for the transfer, and now planes couldn't even take off.

"You thirsty?" Mary flopped her head to the side so she could see her partner's face.

"Sure." He shrugged.

"No, I mean are you THIRSTY?" She repeated the syllables deliberately.

"Oh. Sure. Why not?" He shrugged his shoulders. They weren't working, so they may as well drink.

"There's a hotel bar or are you in the mood for a little local color?" She was already pulling her shoes on.

"Oh, I know how you like color." Plus, he knew how she hated hotel lounges. They always smelled like stale beer and cheep cologne. Smells he knew she associated with Jinx's escapades after her father left.

"Why are you so glum?" Mary was nursing her second beer as she pondered her friend's face. He'd barely touched his first. "Don't you like, love Christmas or something? You're usually so freaking jolly I'm afraid the vultures downstairs are going to string up mistletoe in every doorway in the place just so they can kiss you in your Santa hat."

He barely smiled, and took a sip. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh." Mary scooted her bar stool a bit closer to his. "Spill."

"I don't want to talk here." He didn't want to be here at all, but she didn't usually invite him along when she went to the bar out of town on a transfer.

A loud crash directed his attention away from the wood grain on the counter to the back of the bar. A brawl had broken out, and the local PD would no doubt be on its way.

"We best make a rapid egress so as to avoid undue…publicity." He recommended, mindful of the way Mary had laid into the unfortunate patrol officer to stopped to help them after the crash.

"I didn't finish!" Mary protested as he dragged her out by the hand.

"I'll buy you another one."

"Are you ever going to tell me what's eating you?" She asked seriously as they strolled home. Snow was still falling, and the silhouette of the flakes in the street lamps was actually pretty. The streets were kind of deserted, and the only sounds to be heard was the hum of a far away car and their own feet crunching the snow as they walked. Almost…magical. Under different circumstances.

"You'll just tell me it's stupid." He sighed, but went no further.

"No I won't."

"Mary."

"I won't!" She held up her left hand. "Scout's honor."

He smiled and shook his head as he trudged back to the hotel. Someone somewhere was getting a laugh at his expense.

"Fine." Mary had to hurry to catch up with him. "Don't tell me."

He didn't. In fact, Marshall didn't speak for the rest of the trip back to the hotel. He went right up and changed into his pajamas and crawled into bed. The cold outside had seeped into his bones, and he was cold. Maybe a white Christmas isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Mary sat awake for a few hours watching her partner sleep. He was silent. Still. Morose. All things she was unaccustomed to in this odd man. He loved the holidays. All the hoopla and decorations. Carols and glitter. She hated it, and he embraced it. He told her stories of decorating cookies with his family as a child. Building snowmen with his brothers. Sledding down hills on brand new toboggans. And then it hit her. She knew why he was upset. And she could fix it. Slipping her coat back on, Mary bundled against the weather, left a quick note, and slipped outside. This was one problem she could fix for her partner. Her friend. He deserved at least this much.

Marshall groaned as he opened his eyes late the next morning to find he still couldn't see.

"What the?" He sat quickly, and his hands went to the offending blindfold.

"Don't touch that!" Mary shouted, as she rushed back across the room to grab his hands. "That has a purpose. Leave it on."

"Hmm." He thought for a second. "Kinky."

"Nothing kinky, Pervis." She slapped the back of his head. "Just don't peek yet." She forced him back onto his back, and Marshall had to fight to keep his brain out of the gutter. "I'm not finished."

"What's that smell?" He turned his head toward something familiar.

"Shut up and go back to sleep." She examined the blindfold for faults. "I'll tell you when you can get up."

"And what if I've got to pee?"

"You change your pants." Mary said with finality. "After I say you can get up."

Marshall's brain detoured into the gutter once more, and was quite likely to remain there for some time, so he relaxed and just went with it.

He had just started dozing when Mary shook him awake. "You can get up now."

"What?" There was Christmas music playing softly in the hotel room.

"I said you can get up now!" She repeated. "Here. Let me…" She tried to take the mask off his eyes, but just pulled his hair instead.

"Will you let me?" He removed it himself and blinked a few times as he looked around.

"What did you do?"

"What do you mean?" Mary followed his gaze. "It's kind of self explanatory."

"You did this? For me?" Mary had decorated the entire hotel room in Christmas lights and other holiday paraphernalia. There was even a three foot Christmas tree, complete with ornaments and tinsel and presents beneath it. "When did you?" He stopped. "How did you…know?"

He met her eyes, and she wasn't the slightest bit surprised to see the moisture building there. He had always been the sensitive one of the two, and she wasn't prone to such displays of her affection for him.

"You love Christmas." Mary sat cross-legged on the mattress in front of him and handed him a mug. "I thought this might ease the sting a bit. Now drink this."

Marshall sipped his cocoa as he walked around and examined the room closer. The window was even decorated on the outside, and a small snowman was sitting beside the door. The door. With a wreath on the inside and out.

"I can't believe you…" He was stopped again by the appearance of a sugar cookie.

"We can't bake them, but I bought premade ones, and got frosting and stuff so we can decorate them if you want." She pointed to the table where she'd set up the decorating station. She'd hung stockings on the walls, one curiously lumpy and overflowing, and holiday trinkets were sitting on any flat surface she could fine.

"I also got this." She held up a copy of _White Christmas_. "For us to screen later."

Marshall was speechless as he walked around. Candy and fudge were sitting on the table in pretty Christmas bowls. Toppings and frosting were lined up neatly. A tin of party mix was enticingly open already, and he spotted instant cider mix by the coffee maker.

"Is that a sled?" He pointed to the very obvious sled leaning against the dresser with a large red bow on it. "Can we go sledding?"

"We can." She affirmed. "And I found a good park with a hill, too. But first, you have to open your present."

"It's not Christmas." He protested, amused that Mary was too impatient to wait.

"Not all of them, Doofus, just this one." She sat it on the mattress and took the mug from him to free his hands. "Open it!"

"Bossy." Marshall grinned at her, and Mary melted a little inside. He hadn't smiled like that in far too long.

"Mare?" He was speechless.

"So your feet don't get cold." She shrugged uncomfortable when he hugged her. "And you don't ruin your fancy custom made things."

She'd purchased a pair of snow boots for him, complete with warm socks, hat, scarf, and gloves. He could see she'd done the same for herself as well, and hers were stacked neatly on the edge of the nightstand.

"Do I smell pine?" He sniffed, then spied a candle in the bathroom. "You bought Christmas towels?" And soaps. And peppermint body wash. He laughed when he saw the red and green bath loofahs.

"So?" Mary stiffened. "Change your clothes and let's go try out that fancy sled.

Marshall didn't let her go. His arms tightened around her as he breathed in the scents of Christmas around him. Christmas and Mary. It was going to be a wonderful holiday after all.

"Merry Christmas, Mare." He whispered, not trusting his voice to speak.

"Merry Christmas, Marshall." She whispered as she returned his hug. "I hope you got what you asked Santa go bring you."

"I think I did." He murmured as he pulled back and looked in her bright green, sparkling eyes. "I think I really did."


End file.
